The Art of War
by EvilFuzzy9
Summary: Mostly just an excuse to write short, rambling explorations of cultural attitudes and such in Middle-earth. Probably.
1. Foreword

**The Art of War**

A _Lord of the Rings_ fanfic-like thing

By

EvilFuzzy9

* * *

It is a most curious endeavor that I and my friends undertake in the writing of this chronicle. We do not, with this labor, seek to create a narrative to entertain, or a manual to instruct. Certainly much of what we put down in this book is factual, or at least as close to such a thing as any guessing may come, and one might thus take some manner of education from it, but that is not our intent.

This is a labor, ultimately, for our own purposes, to chronicle the observations we have made, as well as the things which we have been taught. Not to pass these things down to future generations, for much of the things in this book are evils best left forgotten, but simply to remove them from our own cares.

Read this at your own peril. Within we have collected much of the blackest lore of our Age, secrets of sorcery and warfare too terrible to be used, but too great to let fade.

All things deserve preservation, even if the knowledge of them should break you.

- Legolas son of Thranduil, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen

* * *

With all due respects to the prince, I must inform you that he greatly exaggerates. Certainly much of what we have stored in this tome is knowledge of a fell nature, but hardly anything so black or evil as his words imply.

By and large, this is a chronicle of warfare and its curiosities. Not a record of past wars, or a documentation of great battles, but rather a collection of observations on tactics, armament, and yes, even some of the dark arts used by both sides in the great War of the Ring, and those which led up to it.

I suppose one could consider such things as better forgotten, but we dwarves at least have long memories. Many are the generals who failed for lack of lore, the captains who perished in want of knowledge. Not that we intend this to instruct, for largely this work is just a curiosity of ours. But bitter is the ache of lore forgotten, and better we put down what we know in this book than leave it for future generations to rediscover through hardship.

- Gimli Elf-friend, Lord of the Glittering Caves

* * *

What my associates mean to say is that they are overfond of high talk, and wish to make this thing out to be more than it actually is, whether for good or ill. But in truth this is just some old soldiers jotting down what they've seen, heard, and been taught.

Nothing more than that, really.

- Master of Buckland, Meriadoc the Magnificent

* * *

I'd say Merry has the right of it. Legolas and Gimli just like to hear themselves talk... or would you say, '_See themselves write_,' in this instance?

Well, whatever the case.

This was all Elessar's idea, anyway.

- Thain Peregrin Took

* * *

A/N: I dunno. I guess I felt like doing something else that isn't smut, and so decided on this... _thing_... for the LOTR, which I have again been swinging back into recently with _Battle for Middle-earth II_, _War in the North_, and _Return of the King_.

It's a very seasonal interest, with me.

**Chapter added:** 5-22-14

**TTFN and R&R!**

– — ❤


	2. Of the Dwarves

**The Art of War**

A _Lord of the Rings_ fanfic-like thing

By

EvilFuzzy9

* * *

In the smelting of steel and the crafting of armor, no race has ever surpassed the dwarves. And while much of the old craft is lost, such that none now remain outside Imladris with the skill to match the ancient works of Nogrod, Belegost, or Gondolin, still the Longbeards of Durin fashion some of the finest weapons in all Middle-earth.

Best of the free peoples do dwarves endure hardship, being stout and indomitable by nature. They are a proud and hardy people, who can be slain or broken but never subverted. A little less, they are perhaps, in strength of arm than man or elf, for want of stature if nothing else, but one would scarce discern this when faced upon the field by an army of their sort, clad in hard steel maille of peerless craft, with broad helms and great axes.

Greatly do dwarves take pride in these things, in the works of their hands and their unwavering hearts. Few things of this world there are that can fill a hardened dwarf warrior with dread, and when gathered in force they are yet bolder. Dwarves will not flee the field if there is a chance of victory to be had, and in the most grievous of battles many stand their ground to the last rather than turn their back to the enemy.

Not to say that they are foolhardy, though the captains and generals of dwarves in the past have of course had their share of folly. Dwarves can master fear better than most, but rarely will they fight a hopeless battle. If anything, dwarves are a shrewd people, and for all the valor of their warriors sooner to wait out a siege in their great, unconquerable halls than rush out to meet the enemy head on.

Dwarves are not heroic sorts, at least not in the same way as men or elves. They fashion great weapons and armor, are long to hold grudges and quick to wrath, and do not quail easily before terror, but great, individual feats of valor are not their nature. Dwarves fight, for the most part, in armies. While some champions might go out in small groups to harry the foe, for the most part a dwarf warrior on his own will not match up as well against a man or elf in like circumstance.

Their stature betrays them. Stout and hardy as they may be, there is a limit to what strength of will and quality of armament can do. Dwarves make light of heavy burdens, but the greater stature of men and elves makes them more apt to singular feats of individual heroism. Not to say, of corse, that this makes them less valiant or capable of warriors.

'_A tall man with a long sword may better reach the giant's neck, but the dwarf more surely hews its legs._'

That is an old saying of the Longbeards, and it aptly exemplifies how the dwarves as a people approach warfare. When valor cannot win the field, patience will prevail. If your enemy guards their critical territories with ferocity, then strike where they give less care and throw them off their balance.

Elves and higher sorts of men have strong ideas of honor, but when stirred to wrath dwarves can fight as cruelly as any orc. While their songs and tales speak highly of brave dwarves and noble lords, when it comes to actual fighting they are quite willing to use whatever tactics they must.

Like men, the dwarves show a striking contrast between honor and pragmatism. They have many noble champions and hardy, well-armed soldiers, but dwarves will not spend their strength needlessly. They will treat their captives civilly enough, as a rule, yet show no mercy to their foes in battle.

Dwarves as a people will, when pressed, naturally put their own above any lofty ideals. If it is a matter of protecting their people or avenging an ill, the Naugrim will not hesitate to do whatever they must to win.

More than courage or strength of arms, it is pragmatism that makes dwarves truly formidable. Honor they value highly, but victory is worth a dearer price still.

Not that I suggest you ever say as much to a dwarf's face, though!

For we are a very proud people in the end, no matter what evils we must do to keep it so; and we are quick to take offense at any aspersion on our honor, regardless of what the truth may be.

But then such is true for all the peoples of Middle-earth, from what I, Gimli, have seen.

* * *

A/N: I am a really big fan of dwarves. As such, of course I try to reconcile how _The Hobbit_, _The Silmarillion_, and _The Lord of the Rings_ each treat and address them. It's very interesting, in that Tolkien actually gave dwarves a lot more depth than the beer-swilling, axe-swinging, Scottish-speaking stereotypes you'll typically find among his imitators (not that there's anything _wrong_ with those), and his dwarves are honestly a very complex and even _enigmatic _people.

**Chapter added:** 5-22-14

**TTFN and R&R!**

– — ❤


	3. Of the Silvan Elves

**The Art of War**

A _Lord of the Rings_ fanfic-like thing

By

EvilFuzzy9

* * *

Of the elves and their tactics, there is much that could be said. Long years without end do they live, unless of life they should grow weary before their time; but otherwise the _Quendi_ perish only at misfortune or malice, never of age.

Thus may death seem all the more fearful for my people, particularly those of the lesser kindreds who know not the high lore of the West. Elves are not warlike by nature, unless you consider any creature which rises in defense of its own as warlike. We do not lightly go to battle, not in these latter days.

But our history is long, and we have long fought both the Shadow and – more grievously – our fellow Children in many great battles, though I myself am young and have seen only a little of our former glory.

Of the Eldar who returned out of the West in war against the First Enemy, much has been said elsewhere, and is little known to myself outside old songs and tales. Chiefly, here and now, I shall speak of my own kindred, the Silvan elves, and a little perhaps of my father's people, the Sindar.

While the Noldor loved greatly the working of gems and metals, the Wood-elves cared more deeply for things which grew. Iron and steel we may fashion at need in times of war, though more poorly perhaps than such work as gives elven craft its fame, and fair things of skillful make are as dear to us as any race, but we have ever chiefly been hunters and gatherers.

Thus in battle my people favor bows greatest, then spears, axes, and knives; all such things as are of use in hunting and woodcraft. Of wood are most our weapons fashioned, and in the wood do we fight our battles.

Silvan elves are not soldiers. They do not march to battle in armies, save only at dire need, and little love have we for battle on the open field.

Other kindreds sing songs of glory in war, of vanquishing the foe in equal combat, of mastering the enemy with strength of arm and force of will. But the Wood-elves do not. It is in the hunt that we revel, in patience and cunning.

We are not soldiers. We do not fight our enemy on open fields, not at choice. We rather hunt them beneath the forest's eaves, stalk and harry and wear them down, split their numbers with guile and trickery, lead them with fear into traps long-prepared, drive them into rivers, down ravines, or through the dens of fierce beasts.

My people do not see honor in needless bloodshed. We may kill in the hunt, but that is a kill meditated and forgiven, an honored sacrifice of provident nature. Of a game-beast's death no waste is made.

War is nothing but waste.

Elves can live forever unless they are slain, and so all the more loth are we to spend our lives needlessly. If to war it must come, then better it be ended quickly, with little risk to ourselves.

And so the Wood-elves fight from the shadow with terror and dart, beguiling their foes and shooting them in the back. For war has no honor, and in battle no honor do we seek, save only that of preserving what we love.

Wood-elves do not fight: they hunt.

And they kill.

* * *

A/N: Writing something like this is nice change of pace from my usual fare. And I see it's even got a couple of followers, so I figure: another chapter or two? Yeah, sure; why not?

**Chapter added:** 5-24-14

**TTFN and R&R!**

– — ❤


	4. Horse Lords of Rohan

**The Art of War**

A _Lord of the Rings_ fanfic-like thing

By

EvilFuzzy9

* * *

In the Red Book of Westmarch a fair amount has already been said of the Horse Lords, the Rohirrim. They are a proud and fierce people, masters of riding and the hunt. More than any of the other peoples to fight the Dark Lord's forces on the Pelennor, or before the Black Gate, they delight in battle and feats of strength. They are fell and warlike, yet fair also, and honorable.

The Rohirrim are generally held among descendants of the Edain; that is, the first races of Men to make contact with the Elves in Middle-earth, and those who have historically been the least apt toward service of the Enemy (though every orchard has a few bad trees, and many Edain have done things wickeder than most Easterlings). Specifically, they are northmen who hail of old from the Vale of Anduin, and thereby share a distant kinship with the people of Dale, and the Beornings as well.

Through this they likewise claim a kinship with the people of Gondor, who are also descended from the Edain (though of a higher and nobler sort, so to speak), and in whom much northern blood flows these days. And the riders of Rohan are highly regarded in Gondor, both because of their cavalry's prowess, and because of the close friendship between their peoples.

Even before Eorl the Young, and the bestowal of _Calenardhon_ to him and his folk, the Rohirrim were masters of horse riding, and valiant warriors too. They have many songs from the old days, when they were a more tribal sort of people still dwelling in the Anduin Vale, and many tales of old heroes.

Rohirrim prefer fighting from horseback, and there are no people in this age of the world who ride so well or so masterfully. They carry stout shields and long spears, wearing iron mail and green cloaks. Many also carry swords or similar such weapons at their sides, for close up work, and some are such skilled riders that they can even shoot a bow from horseback!

A cavalry charge of the Rohirrim is a marvelous thing to behold. With their banners flying, and their horns a-blowing, and the sound of their singing, and the sight of their faces filled with fell delight at the joy of battle, the Horse Lords of Rohan are a terror to their foes. Just the sight of their horses storming onto the field of battle can be enough to turn the odds, and very few folk indeed are stout enough or mighty enough to long hold formation against such a fearsome onslaught.

The Rohirrim are a fierce people, mighty in battle. They value highly feats of valour and strength, and are certainly more warlike than some folk would like. More than once has the wrath of the Rohirrim undone them, their swiftness to battle driving them to such acts as wiser folk might call evil.

The pride and mastery of the Rohirrim has made them many enemies in the past, and perhaps the only thing keeping most of them from becoming outright cruel is the strong sense of honor they instill in all their children.

(The curiosity of their _shieldmaiden_ tradition, being a thing of much interest, shall be set aside for its own chapter.)

* * *

A/N: And one for Rohan, too. I've got the start of one for Gondor, but I'm drowsy and it's getting near when I should start preparing for work... so maybe another time.

**Chapter added:** 5-24-14

**TTFN and R&R!**

– — ❤


	5. Concerning Gondor

**The Art of War**

A _Lord of the Rings_ fanfic-like thing

By

EvilFuzzy9

* * *

Gondor is an old realm, by the reckoning of us hobbits. It has been around since the times of the Second Age, when Elendil and his sons, Isildur and Anárion, landed in Middle-earth, fleeing the ruin of Westernesse. It's more than twice as old as the Shire.

Now, Gondor was matched, early on, by Arnor to the north, in which Isildur's line ruled after the death of Elendil, but while the northern kingdom would fall halfway through the Third Age, the realm of Anárion's heirs would grow to great splendour, and outlast her brothers in the north. And while King Elessar eventually set things aright and reclaimed the united thrones of both realms, for most of her history Gondor was separate from Arnor, and developed her own culture and ways of fighting.

The South Kingdom is a vast realm, with many diverse peoples in its protectorate. There are the stout, swarthy men from the wooded hills of Lossarnach, well-armed with great axes; keen-eyed archers of Morthond, the great Blackroot Vale; and the tall, lordly Swan Knights from Dol Amroth by the sea. That is just to name a few.

Gondor is a wide country inhabited by many different kinds of Men, and many different kinds of warriors. The people of Gondor have developed many different ways of fighting as would best suit their resources and environments, and some of these peoples have been living in those lands since long before the Kings came over the sea. To list all the varied traditions and philosophies, even only in brief, would be the work of many lifetimes.

But at the height of her strength, Gondor's chief power lay in her navy. Great ships of lebethron, many-sailed and tall-masted. The mightiest were like small fortresses unto themselves, bearing great stores of provender and countless scores of grim knights. The fleets of the old Sea-kings were an awesome sight, and even just a small sending-force of their might could fill many harbors.

Ranks upon ranks of men pouring out onto the shores, a vanguard numbering in the thousands, all in hard-ringed hauberks and tall shining helms. An unsheathing of swords like the glimmer of countless stars, spears like fields of glinting corn, bows half-again a hobbit's height with hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of arrows all cunningly fletched to fly without failing. Thousands of tall knights, grim-faced and mail-clad, with broad shields and keen lances.

Like walls of sinew and steel, Gondor's men-at-arms would march into battle. Rows of shields standing firm before an onslaught, swords falling like scythes upon ranks of wheat, great heavy pikes couched against the ground to impale the charging foe. And bows, bows singing from behind, arrows flying up into the sky, falling amongst the enemy like a rain of death.

It's a sight to steal your breath away, seeing hundreds of soldiers order themselves into formation, directed by aught more than flags and trumpets. The way they move is something else. It's like they are all just the arms and legs of a single mind, moved and ordered in perfect unison with each other.

Discipline, that's what it is. Men of Gondor fight, above all else, with discipline. They move across the field in rows and lines, shaping their ranks into blocks and wedges, with sides and corners swinging around to batter the enemy's flank like hammers seated on hinges. They fight as stones in streams, if that makes sense: they change the flow of the enemy, holding formation against tides of foes, biting into the black hordes with teeth of bone and iron, standing their ground like walls of sinew and steel.

Like the walls of Minas Anor, the grim men of Gondor are hard and unyielding before the enemy's advance.

* * *

A/N: Tried to include more of actual (if _partially_ hypothetical, as far as their canonical use by Gondor) battlefield tactics in this one. Took me forever to find the inspiration/time to finish this chapter, but I did it. A lot of the focus on troop formation is extrapolated from the contents of _The Black Gate Opens_, and a little bit also from the _Battle for Middle-earth_ games, even as canon-incompatible as parts of them may be.

Also, MANY thanks to _nosmaeth_, the only person to review this fic so far! I'm glad someone likes this! :D

**Chapter added:** 6-14-14

**TTFN and R&R!**

– — ❤


	6. General Armament

**The Art of War**

A _Lord of the Rings_ fanfic-like thing

By

EvilFuzzy9

* * *

On the matter of arms and armaments in the Third Age, there is much that could be said. In the fall of Khazad-dûm much of the dwarven-crafts were lost and forgotten, and only in Imladris were the old Noldorin arts preserved. Even the lore of Westernesse had greatly waned.

No steelwork or ironmongery of the Late Third Age could be said to match that of the Second, or the Elder Days. Not though Erebor prospered, and many tried. No smiths in this age could come close to the works of Telchar or Eöl, or the Elven-smiths of Gondolin. Only one work of these waning days can be considered to equal the old marvels, and that was a Noldorin reforging of a Telchar masterpiece.

But since I have been asked to record a list of contemporary fashion in arms and armor, I shall dwell no further on the works of old.

Of armor, most folk as had the resources and craft employed the time-honored traditions of chain-link maille. Hauberks and leggings of close steel or iron rings are excellent protection against most manner of blade and dart, and they are easy to fashion and repair. If a link is broken, it can be removed and replaced nearly as easily by an apprentice as by a master. With a layer of cloth or leather beneath to cushion the body against blunt force, a soldier's body can be well protected for little relative cost.

Shields, even among the dwarves (who excelled in the working of metals, and made light of heavy burdens) would be fashioned chiefly of hard wood, or even leather, and perhaps rimmed or studded with iron to reinforce its integrity. To fashion a shield wholly from metal is expensive, and unless it is specially commissioned for a lord or champion of sufficient might and stature, also pointless. Your average man-at-arms cannot be expected to pick up and carry a shield of full-wrought steel all the way to the field of battle, let alone have the strength of arm to employ it effectively.

For protecting the head, many will wear simple skull-caps of iron or leather. Full helms are rare, and require no small degree of skill to fashion. Usually such works, among Men, will be passed down through generations, or reserved by captains and lords as boons for warriors of exceptional worth and skill. And you would not wear a naked helm upon your head, not without a cushioning layer of fabric. Otherwise the metal would do your skull more ill than good.

As far as weapons, in the War of the Ring, most of the Free Peoples armed themselves in broadly similar fashions. There were few fundamental differences in nature between the weapons of Dwarves, Elves, and Men. Of swords, most were straight — and double-edged, if their makers had the skill. Versatile and reliable, as good for thrusting and hammering as for hacking and slicing. These were the weapons of warriors, a favorite among the High Elves, and the men-at-arms of Gondor.

Axes were axes, whether long-hafted or short, whether they had two blades or one. Dwarf warriors would use axes made solely for battle, ones with keen edges excellently suited to hewing flesh, and no better for chopping trees than knives or swords. Men of the North, Wood-elves, and hobbits, by comparison, used lumber axes almost exclusively, the tools of woodsmen turned from felling trees to orcs.

Spears, of course, were used by all peoples with anything more than a ramshackle hobbit-militia. These are among the most fundamental weapons, perhaps the earliest tools made specifically for killing, whether in battle or the hunt. The most basic kinds of spears are easily fashioned, and can be used to effect even by peasants with no more than a day's worth of training, yet a master of the spear can be a right terror in battle.

Bows are not particularly favored among my people, for though we may live thrice the span of Men, our eyes do not wear much better. But even Dwarves know the value of archers, and the young at least can see far enough to make shooting worthwhile. In contrast Elves, particularly those of the woodlands, are famed for their farsight, and live long enough to truly _master_ the longbow. Men are sooner to use bows than Dwarves are, and better with them also, though not so good as elves. Hobbits, though for the most part too short for a full-sized bow and arrow, are keen-sighted and handy with short bows.

Lastly come cudgels: hammers, maces, mattocks, or what-have-you. In concept even simpler than the spear or axe, clubs and bludgeons are used in some way or other by all the peoples of Middle-earth. Whether it is the walking stick of a hobbit brandished at some ne'er-do-well, a primitive club of bone or branch, or an iron-wrought hammer from the forges under the mountain, grabbing something heavy to bash your enemy with is about as simple – and reliable – as weapons get. And such weapons are of particular use against armored foes, for while a cutting edge or piercing tip can be turned or blunted by any decent armor, only through many cushioning, encumbering layers of fabric can a good and heavy hammerblow be thwarted.

Such things as these were the chief kinds of weapons used by the Free Peoples in the War of the Ring.

* * *

A/N: Ah, hm, after two weeks since the last chapter, we get to something that has long been a mild interest for me: Medieval weaponry. And this is one area in which I am going chiefly by what is written in the books. Because one of the truly interesting things about Tolkien's works, from such a perspective as this, is that he all but explicitly sets the military "tech levels" of Middle-earth's peoples not at the mishmash of Late Medieval and early-to-mid Renaissance that many seem to prefer, but rather pretty strictly at Dark Age levels.

The big thing quote-unquote "casualty" of this is _plate armor_, which is widely favored and abused by all manner of modern fantasy works, but didn't really come into use until the last couple centuries of the Middle Ages, and even then only among the VERY wealthy and powerful. The fanciest Tolkien gets with the armor of his characters is with special helmets or shields, or very high quality dwarf-maille. Other than that, you can probably get a good feel for how most forces of Middle-earth might have been armed just by taking a look at the Bayeux Tapestry.

**Chapter added:** 6-28-14

**TTFN and R&R!**

– — ❤


End file.
